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You're crazy
Like what?
All of my niggas insane
All of my niggas insane
Up in the glee from my hip get smoke like trains
This boy stay clean so I know it's gon' bang
Blow out his thoughts we gon' see all his brain
I'm living my life on the edge
I know some haters that'll come through and chop off your head
We is the monsters that's under your bed
Judging these niggas like dreads
Huh, now he up in the morgue with a wound to his head
He shouldn't have said what he said
I thought that this shit would get better
I'm stacking this cheese, no cheddar
I'm giving this cheddar
I'm always on point bitch I sleep like a feather
If you want smoke we send shots at whoever
I been doing too much I been pushed to the edge
Sit in your seat, I'm today's speaker
Shaking your hand it's real nice to meet ya
Hop on your song and you turn to the future
Can you hear me from up in the bleachers?
Get on the beat and I cut like procedure
Bitch want a simp and a bitch I'm neither
Speaking the truth, straight like a preacher
Not on the net, out control I'll delete ya
These hills have eyes and they always watch
Cold in the kitchen let's up it a notch
Your girl in my zipper, her head in my crotch
And I gave you a chance and you already botched
How you scared from the choices you made?
We on your ass like the sun when you looking for shade
Living life by the edge of the blade
And the blick on my hip is the tool of the trade
Niggas keep saying who hot
Keeping that stick in my crotch while I whip through the block
Cases and shells for a opp
We gonna send him to heaven his body gon' drop
He say my album gon' flop
Gotta stay focused if you tryna get to the top
Still clean the street with a mop
Patek Philippe on my wrist while I'm mixing the pot
Still got your bitch on my dick
Hit from the back I be stuffing that dick in her ribs
Shooting my shot I won't miss
You be like Shaq from the free throw you shooting them bricks
True to my gang I won't switch
Niggas get locked for a statement set up by a snitch
I could never do a bid
That's why I'm moving lowkey with this big Glock on my hip
Nigga you push me I'm pushing a button
Smoking this gas bet my backwood is Russian
Try to run up he end up with concussion
Still in this bitch and I spit on percussions
I been living life on the edge
Got your main bitch she give me head
Should've never said what he said
Now he in a hospital bed
Should've never said what he said
Now he in the hospital dead
Should've never pushed me to the edge
You know we do this shit for Uncle Stan
Stan
Uncle Stan